With you guys aware or not, I’m a hundred percent obsessed with gallery and museum and historical architecture. I’m an addict pretty much. But I guess this is a healthy kind of addiction?! (minus the countless times I tortured my loved ones with endless history talks and innumerable visits to historical attractions. Sorry not sorry). So how on earth can we not visit the State library of Victoria while we are in the heart of so much antique-ness like Melbourne!
But surprisingly what fascinated me the most is not the size or the architecture of the building or inferior. It’s the small gallery which occupied a part of level two of the library.
The art work displayed there are extremely flattering. They have a live of them own. They leave me wonder from times to times how is it even possible to capture such liveliness into a painting. Times like that I questioned the capacity of human kind, and the capacity that hidden undiscovered.
Then caught my eyes was this
Maybe you have seen this many times, or you don’t find this amusing. But this scene put an instant smile on my face. I feel like I could just stand there and watch him sketch in silent for hours. For me it’s somehow very intriguing. So much inspiration in a glance of eyes.
People wonder why a person can love art so much. At times it’s unexplainable, but for me it’s pretty simple.
In art, we got to decide if a boy’s pants is long or short, if a girl wears turtleneck or plain tee. Because in our imagination, we got to decide if the boy travels to a tropical island in his adventure go hunting for the long lost treasure, or he works in a global corporate and about to sign his first contract. And we don’t know if there is snow where the girl lives, if she is sporty or hopelessly romantic. In art, we got to decide to create things only our imagination can reach. And our imagination is limitless. So without me telling, you would know how infinite and extravagant and superb art can be.
I love creating stories through written work too, but sometimes, you can tell more of a person by the way they dress than a sentence in the dialog they say. “Observations is the best teacher”.
I used to paint, and sketch, and doodle, and scribble in all the extra time I got between classes, or even in classes. I skipped meals to finish an undone painting. I spent countless hours on a new sketch. And I do, still, now.
When I do my art, I hear no sound, I see no scene but the sound my work make, scene my imagination paint. I have no distraction. Nothing can step in between me and my great art. My fingers got to move in rhythm with my mind and my eyes. Painting is the kind of gym I’m going to. I work out much intense. I can’t imagine the day I paint no more. But I can imagine, then, I would be senseless.
My dad told me the secret of being smart and smarter, after minutes of contemplative thinking, he said: the key is hard-work. I’m not sure if it’s because he knew me inside out I’m a lazy ass or it’s really the fundamental of intelligence. However, I found out I feel exhausted yet smarter after finishing an art work. Maybe it’s the feel of accomplish something in your life. Or maybe painting is a mental exercise too. I wonder if being art-smart is any different than being math-smart. This I need to find out later.
Too much talking already I forget how easy I can jump from one topic to another.
Hope you guys have a great day! Today, slow down and look around for a tiny bit, in the corner of your eyes, there may hidden an aspiring story.
Until next time! ❤